As she ran down the cold hard street
She glanced down upon her bare feet, and screamed,
She splashed through a puddle of blood.
The blood was pouring from her cold bare feet
She felt nothing.
It was as if a razor had sliced the damp soles of her feet.
She had felt nothing running down the cold hard street.
She couldn’t stop even now.
As the pain was thrust upon her she couldn’t stop herself,
She didn’t know what she was running from
Or where she was running to
She had been running her entire life
And finally she had to cease
She collapsed on the cold hard street
She felt a sharp sting like a small dagger had been stabbed into her foot
But no, there was no dagger only sharp, painful, saline tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, this is one of the best poems i have ever read. Very, very good job, i love it. How old are you?